


Too Long to Wait: The News

by claudia603



Series: Too Long to Wait [3]
Category: Lord of the Rings (2001 2002 2003)
Genre: Domestic, Hurt/Comfort, Interspecies, M/M, Mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-18
Updated: 2010-04-18
Packaged: 2017-10-09 00:28:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/81060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/claudia603/pseuds/claudia603
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Frodo and Aragorn get the shock of their lives.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Too Long to Wait: The News

Frodo stood near the arched exit to Aragorn's hall, waiting   
for the council to end. There had only been enough seats   
for the guests, and Frodo had been on his feet for nearly   
two hours. Aragorn's low but commanding voice went on and   
on. Frodo barely heard what he said, though he heard the   
hums of disapproval from the emissaries from Dunland. Frodo   
shifted on his feet. He felt nauseated and dizzy. He had   
wanted to stay in bed that morning, but he knew Aragorn   
desperately needed his help. His stomach rolled ominously,   
and he felt panicked dismay. Saliva filled his throat. He   
was going to be sick. Not again. He had thrown up earlier in   
the day, just as he had almost every day that week.

Just that morning, Aragorn had said, "You're looking very   
pale. Are you certain you are well?"

"I'm fine," Frodo had answered, irritated. Aragorn had tried   
to roll on him and kiss him tenderly on his mouth, but Frodo   
had squirmed out of his embrace. He had just wanted to be   
left alone.

"No, please not now."

Aragorn had pulled away. "You're obviously not fine."

"I just don't want your hands on me constantly."

"That is not your usual song."

Frodo managed a weak smile. "Maybe this evening."

Frodo felt another more insistent wave of dizziness.   
Aragorn paced, thoughtfully considering the question of one   
of the emissaries. There was an uncomfortable undertone of   
hostility, as if the men longed to erupt into protests but   
were polite enough to at least allow the king to speak.   
Frodo could not imagine how miserable his job of   
entertaining the men was going to be--especially when he was   
feeling as rotten as he was. Frodo cringed at the idea that   
he might have to dash from the room. Worse than that, he   
might get sick in the corridor. He wished at least that he   
had a chair to sit on. His back ached fiercely.

A black haze veiled his vision, and his limbs suddenly felt   
heavy and unresponsive. He clutched the wall behind him, but   
it tilted away. The ground rushed at him.

"Look to the halfling!" was the last thing he heard.

***

Frodo woke with Aragorn's anxious face above him. He had the   
sensation of bobbing up and down, as if on a boat. Why would   
he be on a boat? The last he remembered, he had been in the   
hall listening to Aragorn's voice drone on and on.

"Aragorn," he said. He still felt dizzy, and every movement   
made his stomach churn ominously.

"You should have told me you were ill," Aragorn said.   
Frodo realized now that he was in Aragorn's arms being   
carried rapidly down the corridor. He had ruined the   
council. He cringed in embarrassment.

"I..." He tried to say that he was sorry, but he could   
already tell that Aragorn wasn't listening.

"I will take you to the healer's chamber. I will need to   
return to the council."

Though Aragorn was the most skilled healer in the kingdom,   
he did not have the time to practice it as a full time job.   
He had hired only the best, a man named Koslorn, who had   
been trained by elves long before the War of the Ring.

***

Frodo fidgeted in the big bed.

Koslorn had examined him several hours earlier. He had given   
him an herb to curb the nausea and had bid Frodo sleep until   
Aragorn returned. Now that Aragorn had arrived, Koslorn   
looked disturbed and pale. He looked out the window, at the   
ceiling, into his medical bag. Anything to keep from looking   
at Frodo or Aragorn. Frodo found it puzzling. Koslorn   
checked on him whenever he suffered from his anniversary   
illnesses, and during these times he was usually jovial and   
friendly. He often chatted with Frodo about the Shire, since   
he had spent time as a healer on the border. Today he barely   
smiled. Frodo's stomach sank. Perhaps it was bad news. He   
could be dying. Yes, that was the only explanation. He   
watched Koslorn's shaken demeanor, his skin turning cold.

"What is it?" Aragorn demanded, leaning against the wall.   
"Is he very ill?"

"What's going on?" Frodo asked. "Please be frank."

"I cannot explain it," Koslorn said in a trembling voice.   
"I've never seen anything like it. Though I've heard tales   
of such things among the elves."

"You had best explain it," Aragorn said sternly. He placed   
his hand over Frodo's clammy forehead. "I have employed you   
because you are the best. Is this related to his Ring   
illnesses?"

Koslorn shook his head. He looked helpless, as if someone   
had dealt him a stunning blow across the face. "I-I'm not   
sure-"

"Do you or do you not know what ails Frodo?"

The healer swallowed and looked into Frodo's eyes. "You are   
with child."

Frodo stared at him. What an odd time to joke. Nobody was in   
the mood to laugh. Koslorn did not smile. He maintained   
grave eye contact with Frodo. No. He couldn't be serious. It   
was impossible.

"What?" Frodo paled. "How...but how can...I don't   
understand."

A coldness filled his chest. His hands sought his belly. It   
had felt bloated and unstable for days, but he had thought   
it was from the rich food he had been eating.

The healer sighed. He clutched his hands together. "It is   
common knowledge...As you know..." He looked at Frodo. "You   
share the king's bed."

Aragorn turned to the healer, his eyes glinting dangerously.   
Frodo had rarely seen Aragorn lose his temper, but he looked   
as though he might at any moment.

"You have exchanged fluids, am I correct?" Koslorn found it   
difficult to look at either Aragorn or Frodo.

"Yes." Frodo clenched his hands together.

"This is not possible," Aragorn said.

"I am guessing that because you and-the king are two   
different species, that somehow--"

Frodo shook his head. He let his hand drift over his belly   
again. It couldn't be. It was a mistake. Koslorn was   
speaking about something impossible.

"Do you mean that because I am a hobbit and he is a man that   
it makes the impossible happen? But where is it? I do not   
have, I mean where would it be in me?"

Aragorn had turned away. He leaned his head against the   
wall. Frodo wished Aragorn would come to the bed and sit   
beside him. He longed for his strong hand over his.

"I do not know," Koslorn said. "I will not be able to tell   
for a few more months. By more likely than that, your body   
will probably reject it in the next few weeks."

"And how would I.." Frodo cast a bewildered look to Aragorn.   
"How would I give birth? I don't have...I don't have, you   
know..."

The healer continued. "I have a few concerns. I know this is   
a terrible shock--"

"Is there danger to his health?" Aragorn asked sharply,   
turning around again. Frodo had not seen such tension in his   
face since before the fall of the Dark Lord.

The healer sighed deeply. "In the best of circumstances   
childbirth is risky. And in Frodo's case...He is a hobbit   
almost half the size of his...partner. The baby will   
certainly hold the sum of the two of you, which will make it   
unusually big for his body. The hole that I referred to on   
his body is not very large, certainly not large enough even   
to make the birth of a hobbit-sized baby easy."

Frodo was filled with a mixture of dread and excitement. He   
glanced at Aragorn, but Aragorn did not smile.

The healer continued. "I normally have the ladies come every   
month for a checkup until their time. For you, I want to   
start at once a month until the fifth. Then I'd like to see   
you every week. And then the closer to the end and depending   
on your health, I may very well recommend complete bed rest   
for you."

"How will he bear it?" Aragorn sounded angry, as if he   
blamed Koslorn. "How can he possibly bear a child half   
human? I have delivered enough high-risk children to know   
that this does not bode well. I won't have his life at risk.   
There must be something you can do now to prevent this!"

Frodo watched the exchange with alarm. His lips still felt   
cold. Though now that the initial shock had worn off, he was   
beginning to feel a keen fascination. This was something he   
should have never had the right to experience. And Aragorn   
could have an heir!

"There is nothing I can do, my King, besides cutting into   
him. And you know the risk of taking any of those herbs   
meant to expel what is inside them. Half the time, the   
ladies who try that bleed to death."

"You may go now," Aragorn said in a tired voice. Koslorn   
left with a backward glance at Frodo.

"I don't want to be rid of it," Frodo said, his face filled   
with sudden wonder. "Aragorn, imagine! You had to give up   
an heir to be with me. Now you will have him. Or her. Can   
you imagine? What do you suppose he will look like? Would he   
be tall--with furry feet? What will Sam say? I must write to   
him at once!"

"Quiet!" Aragorn said fiercely. Frodo watched Aragorn's   
pained expression.

"Aragorn," Frodo said in a quieter voice. "If you don't have   
an heir, the kingship will disappear again and Faramir's   
heirs will have to take over again as stewards. Now you   
could have an heir! He will be dark and handsome like you--a   
little on the short side, perhaps with curly hair--"

Aragorn left the room abruptly, letting the door slam behind   
him.

END


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